


Love

by nhpw



Series: When In Rome [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Poly, Bottom Misha, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Mush, Fluff and Smut, Jus in Bello Convention, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Post-Coital Cuddling, Roma | Rome, Romantic Fluff, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6978859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha missed Jensen's Jailbreak performance because he got the wrong address. Really? Really?!</p>
<p>...Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! The feedback on this series has been fantastic, and I've really enjoyed writing this (and by that I mean, I've really enjoyed cranking out three smutty ficlets in less than a week.)
> 
> This is the last piece I had planned for now for this series, and I need to return to finish the sequel to "Mine From the Start" which I've promised some of you wonderful folks is coming - and it is! Hopefully soon! I have a three-day weekend coming up that I'm hoping will allow for at least a little writing time to get that out. I may come back to play in this JIB sandbox if the mood strikes. As always, all chapters are written as one-shots that can be read in any order; they're complete stories in themselves, not meant to build on one another and not necessarily in any particular order.
> 
> THANK YOU(!!!!) for all of the positive feedback on this series and on my writing in general. Your kind words are always uplifting and encouraging. I'm loving being part of this fandom, and I look forward to sharing a lot more with you during the 2016 Hellatus!

Jensen has been laughing for, in Misha’s opinion, approximately 1,000 years. “You-- you got--” 

And every time he tries to speak, the reality of what happened settles back in and fires off a new round of bent-over belly laughs.

“Careful,” Misha says wryly, shaking his head as he turns away to face an open suitcase and starts to sort dirty laundry into it. “Wouldn’t want you to strain anything.”

The laughter bubbles up once more before fading out on a sigh and a clearing of the throat, and then Misha relaxes at the feeling of a warm body curved over his spine and two strong arms coming around his middle. “Oh, Baby, don’t be mad. I just-- We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for  _ three days _ . How did that even  _ happen _ ?”

Misha sighs and straightens, turning in the circle of Jensen’s arms. “We must’ve been distracted.”

Jensen chuckles - softer, more intimately than the howl he’d been emitting just moments before - and brushes his nose and then his lips against Misha’s. “Must’ve been,” he agrees, smiling as he goes for lips-on-lips again, this time going the full distance to claim his prize.

It’s the gentlest kiss that shatters anything that remains of Misha’s resentment, and he returns the embrace, arms circling low on Jensen’s waist so that his fingers skirt just under the swell of the ass cheek on either side. It makes Jensen purr exactly as Misha expects, and they lose themselves in soft kisses and feather-light touches, each of them seeking out areas they know to be sensitive on the other. It’s the gentlest they’ve been with each other since arriving in Rome - gone is the urgency, leaving only the sweet, surreal feeling of one another. “You mad?” 

The question comes out hushed against Misha’s mouth, or rather into it, before Jensen slides his tongue in, slow and purposeful against Misha’s own.

“Mmmm… Nah. ‘S funny. ‘S fine,” Misha responds with a purposeful squeeze of his lover’s ass. He pulls back from the kiss to offer a small smile. “Long as you’re not mad at me for missing it.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for.” Jensen clearly has no interest in talking anymore. He brings his hands up to cup Misha’s face and capture his mouth in a searching kiss, only breaking long enough to draw in a new lungful of air. “You’re here with me now. ‘S what matters.”

“You fucking sap.” But Misha’s eyes are sparkling. The natural high that Jensen’s kisses incite has taken over every nerve in his body and he needs more, and soon. He takes the lead for the next liplock, but keeps the pacing at the same tempo that Jensen had set. 

Sometimes, from the very beginning of foreplay, there’s a clear indication of who’s going to top when they actually get down to the business of having sex. One of them will be more aggressive, or more pliable, and that will pave the road for their play. But other times, they both need to be together simply for the sake of  _ being together _ . It’s that, right now. Their near-squabble over the clusterfuck of Jailbreak is a wrinkle they want to smooth out as soon as possible, and there’s no exchange of power needed. Ultimately they end up on the bed still wearing all of their clothes, and take their time undressing one another - a shirt here, a belt there, an undershirt to the floor, a pair of pants kicked off toward the end of the bed, piece by piece until they’re naked and stretched out on their sides in mirrored positions. Only then does Misha break liplock long enough to nuzzle Jensen’s nose with his own and say, “Please?” and Jensen nods and goes in for another kiss as he rolls them so that his body covers Misha’s head to toe. 

There’s still no rush; they get lost in wandering touches and deep kisses in a way their schedules rarely allow, and although Misha is achingly hard and can feel the press of Jensen’s own desire between their bellies, he ignores it in favor of gentle passion. It’s a far cry from a quick fuck bent over the counter of a trailer kitchenette. It’s miles away from the kink that tends to come along with a threesome or a foursome.

This is made of different stuff. Softer stuff. More passionate stuff.

Jensen finally breaks away to slide down Misha’s body, reaching to his right to feel for the bottle of lube he’d set there in the undressing process. Misha hears the pop of the cap and the squeeze of a half-empty bottle and then there’s a cool, slick press of a digit against his entrance and he draws his knees up with a groan of desire and consent.

“You always open up so well,” Jensen marvels under his breath before sucking down the length of Misha’s cock. Misha bucks but there’s no sputtering from his partner, just a hum of encouragement, and Misha wonders if Jensen’s trying to get him off first. He doesn’t want that. Not this time. He wants it later.

“Want you inside me, J,” he whines at the ceiling. “ _ Please _ .”

“In a minute, Baby.” But he adds another finger and lets up with his mouth, message received. 

“You’re always so worried about hurting me.” In spite of himself, Misha chuckles and reaches down a hand to stroke the side of Jensen’s head.

“‘Course. Love you so much.” He lines up then and eases himself inside in one long, slow burn. “That’s the stuff, big boy. That’s it.” He hisses and Misha brings his knees up to his ears and Jensen groans and aims right for the sweet spot. For all of their laziness in getting here, neither of them is going to last long.

And that’s OK.

That’s perfect.

Misha tries to reach between their bodies to stroke himself, but Jensen bats the hand away in favor of taking up the task himself. He thrusts and strokes in sync, pinning Misha down with an intense emerald stare. Misha can’t tear his eyes away, can’t even blink. He holds that line of vision, holds that look of love and need, and grasps erratically at the sheets beneath him as he starts to buck into the thrusts. “J--  _ Jensen _ \--”

Lips come crashing down on his, and it’s over.

They stay locked together until Jensen falls out, and then there’s a mess that needs cleaning up that lands them in the shower, laughing and kissing under a warm spray as they wash away the remnants of sex on teach others’ bodies. And then they’re back on the bed, mirrored on their sides, a moulded sculpture of tangled legs and touching noses and holding arms and lovers’ smiles.

“When we go home,” Misha says, even though he knows he shouldn’t, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Shhhh.” The smallest, gentlest of kisses quiets him. “Not now. Not here.”

_ Not here _ . Not in Rome. Rome isn’t for longing or wishing or making other plans. Rome is for here. Rome is for now. Rome is for lovers.

Rome is for them.


End file.
